


In A Little Bit of Trouble (In Real Deep)

by RobinsonsWereHere



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chaos, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Family Feels, Feels, Found Family, I Had A Lot Of Fun With This, Medical Inaccuracies, Morning Sickness, Team as Family, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wedding Planning, Weddings, and patsy has it half the time, enjoy the madness, i cannot stress enough that this is nowhere near canon compliant, i have done the show a disservice with how little i know about medicine, listen this is just absolute chaos okay, they all share a brain cell, this does not fit the canon timeline, ursula who? i don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27838990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: S6 AU. Set early s6, no specific timeline.When Barbara comes home from South Africa, everything feels... different. So much has happened, and she herself feels changed. Honestly, getting engaged to Tom-- and their rather passionate celebration of it-- feels like the least important part.But what happens in South Africa can't just stay in South Africa, and she soon learns she's been left with a lasting reminder.
Relationships: Barbara Gilbert & Patsy Mount, Barbara Gilbert/Tom Hereward, Phyllis Crane & Barbara Gilbert, Trixie Franklin & Barbara Gilbert
Comments: 63
Kudos: 43





	1. Girl Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome! I've had this idea since January, and I finally decided to treat myself and write it. Very exciting. A couple notes on the timing-- please don't expect this to line up with s6 canon bc,,,, it just doesn't. I forgot about Ursula entirely until it was too late to write her in. Because of how nonspecific I was in the timing, I really didn't know if Trixie would be back from South Africa, if Patsy would be in Hong Kong, if Valerie would be around yet... so the gang's all here! The more, the merrier! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy, and forgive a scattered author her poor recollection of canon. On with the show!

Barbara perches on the corner of Trixie’s bed, her back against the head rail with a pillow in her lap. Trixie herself has made use of the other pillow and is lying on her stomach next to Barbara, with no regard for the other two people on the bed. As a consequence, Patsy is sitting very nearly on top of Trixie at the foot of the bed, and Delia is balancing on the foot rail, playing with Patsy’s hair.

Valerie is on the floor. She’s also got the chocolate supply, though, so she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Mine doesn’t usually come for another week,” she groans, her head falling back against Patsy’s leg.

“You must be syncing up with the rest of us, then,” Delia says sympathetically. “Tends to happen with a bunch of women in one house.”

Barbara worries her lip between her teeth, staying quiet. Delia is right-- she, Trixie, Patsy, and Barbara have been on the same ‘schedule’ for ages-- so why…

“I’ve heard that sometimes one woman’s hormones sort of, I don’t know, take the lead, and direct everyone else’s,” Patsy muses. “Who do you suppose that is out of the five of us?”

“Impossible to say, really,” Trixie answers. “We’ve all been living together for so long.”

Murmurs of agreement pass around the room. Barbara hugs the pillow tighter against herself.

“Honestly, I don’t have the energy to contemplate _why_ it’s happening like this,” Valerie admits. “I’m just glad we’ve got chocolate.”

“Patsy always has the best stash,” Trixie says. “Pass me some, would you?”

Of course, everyone gets a piece or two before it gets to Trixie. Barbara, lost in thought, is surprised when she realizes the blonde is holding it out to her. “Barbara? Do you want some?”

“Oh, I’m not…”

“It’s chocolate, sweetie, it doesn’t matter if you’re hungry.”

“I’m not on my period,” Barbara finishes. She takes a piece of chocolate anyway, chewing thoughtfully.

“Well, it’s not uncommon for your cycle to shift a few days back and forth,” Patsy says. “How long has it been?”

Barbara frowns, counting in her head. “Um. Since December?”

Delia chokes on her chocolate. Patsy’s eyebrows shoot to her hairline. Trixie gives Barbara a piercing look. _”December!?”_

“Babs, it’s February,” Val supplies helpfully.

“Yes,” she sighs. “I know.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?” Trixie asks.

“Honestly, I hadn’t really realized?” Barbara shrugs helplessly. “We’ve all been so busy…” 

“First rule of midwifery,” Patsy says with a chuckle, “are you pregnant?”

She’s joking, clearly. But Barbara stays silent, her lower lip chewed nearly off searching for any answer other than the obvious…

Trixie laughs. “Barbara, pregnant? Oh, please. We all know she would have told us if… would have told _me…”_ But she is the first one to register the look on Barbara’s face, and her jaw drops. “Lord god. You are.”

“I…” Barbara swallows hard past the lump in her throat. “Probably?”

“When!?” Trixie’s voice is rising in pitch and volume. Before Barbara can answer, she claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my god. South Africa!?”

“What did you all do in South Africa?” Patsy demands.

“Tom and I got engaged,” Barbara explains.

Valerie raises an eyebrow. “And a bit more than that?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Trixie nearly screams.

“Trixie, I didn’t tell _anyone,”_ Barbara says helplessly. “Well, um, Fred may have arrived as I was getting dressed again, but other than that--”

_”Fred_ knew before I did!?” Trixie is well and truly incensed.

Barbara makes a noise between and sigh and a groan and decides her best course of action at the moment is to faceplant into a pillow.

“Trixie, please calm down,” Patsy says gently. Barbara can’t see what she’s doing, but she feels the weight on the bed shift to suggest Trixie is sitting up. “We don’t want the nuns to come see what the commotion is about. Or, heaven forbid, Phyllis.”

Trixie settles down a bit, but this only ignites a new path of worry in Barbara’s head. “What am I going to do?” she moans. “People are going to find out…”

“Just move up the wedding,” Valerie says, moving to where she can squeeze Barbara’s hand. “Tie the knot soon enough, and noone will know. It happens all the time.”

Barbara shakes her head. “Not to midwives engaged to curates! We both should’ve known better!”

“Barbara.” Patsy moves down the bed toward her, wrapping her in a warm, if bony, hug. “You’re going to be alright. Take a few deep breaths, please, and Trixie, can she have some of your water?”

Trixie nods and hands over the glass, which Barbara obligingly sips from. When she finishes, she notices all of her friends watching her with very similar expressions. It almost makes her laugh. “Oh, don’t all of you try to start nursing me at once.”

Only Valerie and Delia make any effort to return their faces to normal.

“Are you sure on the December dates?” Trixie asks.

“Absolutely,” Barbara says. “It was only-- only once. And I do remember having my period a week or two before we left Poplar.”

“Sound dates are good,” Patsy says, her tone smooth and professional. “But if it’s already been that long,you definitely need to come into clinic this week.”

Barbara shakes her head. “Are you mental!? I can’t come into clinic like a normal patient. Everyone in Poplar would know before we closed up for the night.”

“She has a point,” Delia says, giving Patsy a look. “We should all try to keep this under wraps.”

“You still do need antenatal care,” Trixie says, nibbling a lacquered nail.

Barbara sighs, shaking her head. “I know, I know.”

“We’re all midwives,” Valerie points out. “We can do an exam right here! No different than a home visit.”

Murmurs of agreement pass around the room.

“Can we not do it tonight?” Barbara pleads. “I’m tired and I’m worrying myself sick. I just want to go to bed.”

Trixie nods. “Of course sweetie.” A small smile curves over her lips. “One more thing.”

“What?”

The blonde wraps her in a hug, and is soon joined by Patsy and Delia. Valerie climbs on the bed, too, and Barbara finds herself rather smothered.

It’s nice, though.

She lies awake for a long time, later that night. But at least she’s got her friends to keep her head on straight.

She has no clue what she would do without them.


	2. Secret Keeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara's pregnancy is confirmed, and even as the nurses struggle to keep the secret from the rest of Nonnatus, there's someone else who needs to be told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning everyone! I hope you enjoyed chapter 1, and I hope you're ready for a bit more chaos. I hope you love reading this fic as much as I loved writing it! Also please do not expect this fic to be too medically accurate, I sacrificed some/most of the science for the sake of the story. Sorry!

The stair creaks under Trixie’s foot as she carefully climbs the staircase, causing her to freeze, which means Valerie bumps into her from behind.

“Shh!”

“Who are you shushing?” Trixie whispers. “Me, or the staircase? Because I don’t think the inanimate object is going to listen to you!”

“Just, be quiet!” Valerie answers, in the same secretive voice. “We really do not want to have to explain to Phyllis why we’re bringing a medical kit upstairs.”

“You’re the one who was making noise in the first place,” Trixie hisses, but she resumes climbing the stairs as quietly as possible. The hallway floorboards creak, too, but at least Phyllis’ room is in the opposite direction of theirs.

As they reach their bedroom door, Trixie reflects on why they’re sneaking around at all. It’s only been one exhausting day since Barbara’s revelation, but Trixie can already see a change in her friend. Barbara has always been horrible at keeping secrets; honestly, Trixie had half expected Phyllis and the rest of Nonnatus to know by breakfast. But her lips have remained sealed, and indeed Barbara herself has been more closed off, noticeable even after one short day.

“Knock knock,” Trixie calls, slipping into her bedroom with Valerie on her heels. She sees Barbara laying on Valerie’s bed in her pajamas, Patsy already palpating her abdomen.

“Oh, good,” she says. “You’ve already gotten started.”

For the next few minutes they awkwardly hover, four nurses far too many for an exam that only takes one. But Patsy rises soon enough with a cheerful smile. “Everything is as it should be, Barbara. You’re about ten weeks along, from your dates and baby’s growth. Shall I take a listen?”

Barbara smiles hesitantly. “I suppose so.”

Trixie, Valerie, and Delia are very nearly on the edge of their seats-- or rather, her bed-- as they wait.

“Strong heartbeat,” Patsy says, after a long moment. “Nice and steady.

Barbara seems to relax at that; in fact, everyone does.”Good,” she says softly. “That’s good.”

“You’re ship-shape,” Patsy assures her, giving a reassuring smile. “And you’ve got plenty more help than you need.”

Barbara sits up, adjusting her pajamas. “Oh, don’t be silly. I’m going to need every one of you.”

“Well, then,” Trixie says, “it’s a good thing we’re all here, isn’t it?”

\---

Barbara packs her medical bag carefully, everything in its rightful place. It’s almost a calming ritual, something she’s confident in her ability to do, something she knows she can get right. She is a nurse. She is a good nurse. Nothing that’s happening to her now changes that.

Across the room, Delia leans against the doorway, technically on call but still participating in the routine chatter during morning prep. “Have you had the chance to talk to Tom yet?”

Barbara shakes her head. “You know what these past few days have been. I only put it together Monday night, and then Tuesday is clinic, which is horribly hectic, and now it’s Wednesday.” She heaves a long sigh, finally deciding she can’t reorganize enema tubes any further. “And I don’t want to, I don’t know, bring it up during the thirty minutes we can both spare for lunch together. It seems like it should be more special than that…”

Really, all of this should have been more special. But that’s nobody’s fault but her own. She blinks fast to dispel the tears she feels gathering.

“We could sneak you out tonight,” Patsy says.

“Ooh, good idea.” Trixie nods enthusiastically. “I’m on call, so there wouldn’t really have to be too much sneaking…”

Before Barbara can protest, Phyllis enters, and everyone suddenly stops speaking, hurrying to busy themselves.

Phyllis pauses in front of her Rolodex. “I do so love it when all conversation ceases as soon as I set foot in a room.”

Delia inspects her nails.

Valerie picks up a pamphlet on a fundraiser for the maternity home. She’s holding it upside down.

Patsy stares intently at her medical bag.

Barbara tries not to make eye contact with anyone. Her ability to keep secrets crumbles at the slightest contact with an authority figure.

Only Trixie answers, with a saccharine smile. “You don’t want to ruin the surprise, Phyllis. We were planning for your birthday.”

“My birthday,” Phyllis says, “isn’t for five months.”

\---

Tom has two favorite ways to spend an evening: out with the love of his life, for fish and chips and long city walks, or on his couch with a book-- sometimes a Bible, sometimes not-- and a cup of tea.

Barbara’s been busy this week, so tonight is the latter. With a steaming cup of tea and a just-started copy of _Things Fall Apart,_ he settles in for a tranquil night.

Not ten minutes later, there’s a fast, quiet rapping on his door.

A grin splits his face when he sees Barbara, despite the unexpectedness of her visit. She’s flanked by Nurse Mount and Nurse Dyer, but he hardly pays them mind.

“Come in, come in,” he says. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Barbara looks down at her feet. Patsy and Valerie exchange glances with each other. Tom’s confusion grows.

“Would you all like some tea?”

“Actually, I think I fancy a cigarette,” Nurse Mount says with a thin smile. “Valerie, care for a smoke?”

“What? Oh, yes, we should do that. Outside.” And with that oddly thin excuse, Patsy and Valerie vanish.

Tom turns to Barbara for an explanation, but she’s so clearly lost in thought, so blatantly upset that the only thing he can focus on is making sure she’s alright. He crosses the small kitchen to take her hands in his. “Barbara? What’s the matter?”

“I…” she takes a shaky breath, stepping closer to him. “I don’t-- can you please hold me?”

He wraps her in his arms without hesitation, leading her to the sofa. “Of course. What’s the matter, love?”

But she only buries her head in his shoulder, and so he lets her sit in silence for a while.

“Tom,” she whispers hoarsely, after ten or so minutes of him holding her close, “I’m pregnant.”

His heart stills in his chest. He remembers that evening in South Africa, of course, that rickety cot that had seemed such a poor place to consummate their relationship. He remembers asking if she was sure, assuring her he was, too.

He hadn’t really thought about it leading to this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers into her hair.

“It’s not you who should be sorry,” she mumbles. “You’re not a trained midwife. You couldn’t have known any better.”

He shrugs. “Still. I should have practiced what I preach.”

Barbara presses herself tighter against him. “Do you still want to get married?”

“Of course!” he can’t even believe she has to ask. “Even more so, now.” A second of hindsight makes him wince. “I mean, not just because of the baby. Well, yes because of the baby, but I love you, I want to marry you regardless--”

“Tom.” Barbara finally lifts her head to look at him, a tentative smile on her lips. “I know what you meant.”

He can’t help but smile widely as he looks at her, the knowledge that she’s carrying his child washing over him. He winds his fingers through her beautiful dark hair, leaning down to press his forehead to hers. Their lips meet for a long, slow, sweet kiss. Kissing Barbara could wipe all worries from his mind any day.

She sighs happily as she leans against his chest. “That was a nice reminder of how we got into this situation.”

He hums against her. “If your friends weren’t right outside, I might be tempted to give you more than a reminder.” He kisses her again. “No harm in it now.”

Barbara laughs. “We’d best not. Patsy and Val and everyone are sticking their necks out for me; I should keep this visit short.”

“Shame.” He rubs her back absentmindedly. “So… we’ll need to move the wedding up, then?”

She laughs. “I should think so.”

“Just tell me what I can do to help,” he says. “I don’t need anything fancy. Whatever you want, whenever you want.”

Barbara smiles fondly at him as she cups his cheek with her hand. “I haven’t had the time to do much planning myself… but thank you, Tom. Really. For being so wonderful about this.” She leans forward to kiss him again. He feels like he could do this all night.

“Of course,” he whispers. “I love you.” One of his hands moves to rest on her belly. “And I love our baby.” He smiles again. “Our baby. I can’t believe it.”

Barbara giggles softly. “You know, I haven’t really had time to think about that part of it. I’ve been so worried about everyone finding out that it wasn’t until Patsy found the heartbeat that I really began to think about actually having a baby.”

Tom is surprised at how much relief that brings. “Patsy’s looked at you? Everything’s alright, then?”

She kisses him softly on the lips. “Just as it should be.”

He kisses her back, and just as before, all of the tension fades away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Barbara Invented romance and they're so soft together I will continue to ship them harder than anyone else I've ever met in this fandom


	3. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara is terrible at keeping secrets. And Phyllis was always going to find out, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to be updating this fic. It's one of my favorites and I love this chapter in particular

In her seat by the telephone, Phyllis doesn’t see much other than her book, but she doesn’t have to. Looking up would be a waste of energy when her other senses can easily tell her what’s happening.

She hears the sound of the heavy front door slowly creaking open.

_Good. It’s nearly midnight. I was honestly starting to worry about them._

She hears careful footsteps, the caution of their owners no match for the old flooring.

_I wish they’d put half as much care into watching where they’re going on busy clinic days._

And then she hears the footsteps stop, and a chorus of alarmed whispers.

“It’s Phyllis!”

“Shit!”

“Valerie, language!”

“I thought Trixie was on call tonight!”

Finally, Phyllis looks up, turning to face the gaggle of guilty nurses a meter away. “She was. She got called out.”

“Should’ve thought of that,” Patsy mutters.

Phyllis sweeps the three of them with a stern stare. “Alright, ladies. I think all of this sneaking around has gone on long enough.” Her gaze settles on Barbara, looking ashamed as she awkwardly stares at the ground. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen, and I’ll put the kettle on, and the three of you can explain to me what’s going on here.”

As they wait for the water to boil, a tense silence grows, the nurses all acting like young children caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Phyllis pours three cups, then joins them at the table. Barbara pushes hers away. “I’m… not feeling well.”

“Alright,” she says. “This isn’t the inquisition, lasses. I’m not going to force you to start talking.” She sips her tea. “I’m simply concerned. Sneaking around at night suggests unhealthy habits. I know the five of you are hiding something, and I know you’re doing a bad job of it.”

Patsy and Valerie exchange glances, but Phyllis has a feeling they’re not truly at the heart of what’s going on.

Barbara looks down, fidgeting under the table. When she looks back up, Phyllis can tell just from the expression on her face that she’s about to say it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Quite honestly, Phyllis hadn’t been expecting that. But in the few seconds she takes to think about it, she finds she’s not too surprised. She looks Barbara over, takes in the guilt in her eyes and the tension in her posture. In the next moment, she rises from her seat and crosses the table, wrapping the younger nurse in a hug. She’s not surprised when she feels the wetness of tears against her shoulder.

“Oh, kid. You’ll be alright,” she soothes. “This isn’t the end of the world. You’ll make a wonderful mother, even if it doesn’t happen just when you expect.”

“Thank you,” Barbara mumbles, her voice muffled.

“This excursion tonight was to speak with Mr. Hereward, I assume?”

“Mhm.” 

“And will I need to have words with him?”

“No,” Barbara says, laughing wetly. “He took it wonderfully. He’s more excited than I am.”

“Besides,” Valerie pipes up, “Trixie made it clear she’s first in line if any intimidation or threatening is necessary.”

As if on cue, there are footsteps from the hall. “I heard my name,” calls a familiar voice, but Trixie stops just short of the doorway. “Oh. Phyllis.”

“She knows,” Barbara says. 

“We shouldn’t have even tried to keep it from her,” Patsy says.

“No,” Phyllis agrees, “you shouldn’t have.”

\---

Later that night, Barbara sits in bed, mostly leaning against her headrail, the blankets up to her waist. She rests a hand on her stomach, her thumb rubbing back and forth. Any difference at this point is either her imagination or just plain bloat, but still… her baby is growing in there.

She already loves her unborn child so desperately, but that only strengthens her guilt about how much of a mess this is.

“Phyllis?”

“Mhm?”

“You were born out of wedlock, weren’t you?”

“I was,” Phyllis answers after a pause, “but I hardly think you need to be worrying about that just now.”

“I know, I know,” Barbara agrees, twisting her engagement ring on her finger. “But I just-- I’m feeling so… unsure right now. I don’t know how this could be bad, to have a baby with the man I love, but a moment later I’m cursing myself for not waiting just a few more months…”

“Well,” Phyllis says, her calm voice comforting as always, “part of that is hormones, for you. If it helps, you’d be having these mood swings even under normal circumstances.”

“I know,” Barbara says, drawing her knees up to her chest. “It doesn’t help.”

“Barbara.” Phyllis looks up at her, and Barbara meets her eyes. “Things are going to be just fine, lass. You’re going to marry that handsome vicar of yours, and the two of you will give your baby all the love you have to offer. You will make a superb mother, and nothing about how or when this baby comes into the world can change that.” She reaches for the lamp switch, offering one last comforting smile. “Everything is going to be alright.”

The lamp clicks out, and Barbara slides down until she’s fully nestled in bed.

“Thank you, Phyllis,” she whispers into the dark.

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

\---

The rest of the week is a blur.

Trixie and Patsy help her start wedding planning; honestly, Barbara is at a loss. She sees Tom a few times, but only in passing, or for a quick lunch; never for long. And she quickly learns that continuing her normal work duties during the first trimester of pregnancy is _exhausting._

Yes, there are quite a few things about her current condition that make her job harder. For instance, she finds herself having to duck out of Tuesday clinic to succumb to morning sickness far more often than she would like. There’s quite a difference between gently explaining to a patient that the name is rather inaccurate and fully experiencing that herself.

To her surprise, she realizes she’s not the only one getting sick in the community center toilets. It’s even more of a shock to leave the stall and realize her companion is Shelagh.

They make eye contact as they head for the sinks, and Barbara realizes something. “You too, then?”

“Well, yes,” Shelagh admits. A furrow appear in her brow. “...too?”

Barbara blushes as she realizes her slip-up. “Um. Yes.” She twists her engagement ring, a nervous habit she’s picked up. “We’ll be moving the wedding up, of course.”

Shelagh gives her an understanding smile. “Of course. Congratulations, still.”

“Thank you.” Barbara smiles back. “You, too.”

“I hope so,” Shelagh sighs.

Barbara feels a flash of guilt as it occurs to her that she’d never bothered to wonder _why_ the Turners’ little girl had been adopted. She reaches to give Shelagh’s hand a comforting squeeze. “Ah… good luck.”

“Thank you, Nurse Gilbert.” Shelagh’s smile seems a little less restrained. “I suppose we both need to get back to clinic.”

“That’s true.” Barbara nods, but pauses in the doorway. “Um, Shelagh-- would you mind, just until the wedding, not, ah, saying anything to anyone?”

“Don’t worry,” Shelagh assures her. “My lips are sealed.”

Barbara nods, relaxing. “Mine, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Barbara's secret keeping skills vs pregnancy in a convent full of midwives


	4. Not Really Back to Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara tries to adjust back to normal life while hiding her pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone who celebrates xmas is going to have a very merry christmas this Friday! Think of this as an early gift ;P

It’s odd, how life is almost back to normal after the initial shock of discovering her pregnancy.

Dates with Tom are now more focused on whispered preparations and wedding plans. Sometimes their friends crash the latter, Trixie and Patsy far too keen on organization to leave anything to chance. But as far as anyone else knows, things are utterly normal between them.

Barbara finds a rhythm, adjusting to how drained she feels after a work day. She normally goes to bed just after tea, these days, and with Phyllis in on the secret, she’s only on night shift once a week, or if there’s a busy night when whoever’s in front of her has to go out.

The one thing she can’t adjust to, though?

Morning sickness. In a shared bathroom, no less.

“I have been mislead,” she groans, spitting into the toilet. “Nine to ten weeks was _not_ the worst of it.”

Trixie hums sympathetically, holding her hair back. “Well, for some women, morning sickness continues throughout pregnancy.”

Barbara vomits again. Valerie, toweling off her face after a morning scrub, offers her two cents. “I don’t think you’re helping right now, Trix.”

“You all should go on down to breakfast,” Barbara tells them. “I can get myself situated.”

“If you’re sure,” Valerie says. “I’m starving.”

“You’re _always_ hungry,” Trixie retorts, with a fond eye-roll. “Barbara, would you like me to save you anything?”

“No,” she sighs, “best not. I can’t think of any food that sounds appealing jut now.”

Trixie sets her hands on her hips. “You need to eat something.”

“Fine,” Barbara sighs. “Plain toast, maybe. And some tea.”

Her day does not improve when she finally peels herself off the floor to get dressed. Twelve weeks means her small bump now makes underthings difficult. Her uniform still fits, at least, but it’s only a matter of time now… time she doesn’t have.

Phyllis, straightening her uniform collar, eyes Barbara in the mirror. “Hm. If I were you, I’d schedule a dress fitting sooner rather than later.”

“You’re right,” Barbara agrees, her hand resting on her stomach for a brief moment before she does up her uniform. “I’ll pop over to Violet’s this afternoon. You’ll come with me, won’t you?”

“I should be able to, provided I’m not called out.” Phyllis smiles. “You know, Nurse Franklin has much more expertise in this sort of thing.”

“I don’t want expertise, I want someone there to steady me,” Barbara explains. “Besides. I remember Trixie trying to plan _her_ wedding… I don’t think I want to fully give her the reins.”

Phyllis chuckles. “Well, alright. I’m at the maternity home this morning, but I’ll see you later.”

With a smile, Barbara steps into her shoes and attaches her watch to her pocket. ‘Thank you, Phyllis. It means a lot.”

\---

That afternoon, it isn’t Phyllis but Patsy who meets Barbara in front of Violet’s shop. “Phyllis is with Mrs. Mandel,” the redhead explains. “I hope I’ll do.”

Barbara smiles and squeezes her friend’s hand. “Of course!”

Inside the shop, things don’t go as smoothly as hoped. Barbara doesn’t have many expectations at all for the dress, but Violet seems put-out nonetheless. “Two months!? I never advise planning something like this in fewer than six!” she exclaims, busying herself with fabrics. “Unless, of course, the bride is in the family way.”

Not expecting to confront her issue so directly, Barbara is at a loss. She looks to Patsy for help and gets only a wince and a shrug. “If you have to strip for measuring, she’ll notice anyway,” Patsy whispers.

Barbara clears her throat, knowing she’s taking too long to answer Violet. 

“Yes,” she says awkwardly, “well…”

Violet stills behind the counter, looking up with a nearly comical expression of surprise. “Oh,” she says. “Oh. I see.”

The three of them remain in the tense silence for a heartbeat, but Violet soon bustles around the counter with even more vigor. “Not to worry, Nurse Gilbert, we’ll get you all sorted out! I can get this dress made in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, promise. An empire waist will do you wonders, I’ll just need your measurements…”

Barbara nods, breathing deeply in, and then out, trying to quell the nausea in her stomach. Patsy moves to her side, a gentle hand in the small of her back. Barbara tries to smile confidently.

This will all get sorted out…

\---

Patsy is trying to make planning this wedding an efficient, sensible endeavor, but literally everyone else seems to be working against her.

“What sort of venue were you thinking?” Trixie asks. “I know you want to stay local, so we don’t have very much flexibility, but there’s a lovely dining and reception room available to rent just a few streets up…”

“Whatever you all decide,” Barbara says. She’s staring at the pages of plans but doesn’t seem to be taking any of it in.

“That’s no attitude for a lovely bride-to-be,” Valerie scolds. “You do have the final say in this, you know. Veto power and all that.”

“It’s okay to be excited about this, Barbara,” Delia adds, reaching to cover her friend’s hand with hers. “Weddings are fun! They’re a time of celebration. Things should be just as you want them to be.”

Patsy smiles softly at the energy in Delia’s voice. She knows her girlfriend is fond of weddings, and almost seems to be living vicariously through the planning of this one. It’s still not entirely helpful at the moment.

“Unless you want them to be at a reception hall,” she butts in, giving Trixie a pointed look, “because we’ve already agreed that’s financially and logistically unwise. Coming back to Nonnatus for the celebration will work just fine.”

Barbara nods, still looking rather down. “I mean, there’s only one thing I’ve ever _really_ wanted for my wedding, and now I’m not even sure it’s a possibility.”

Patsy’s brows knit as she wracks her brain for the detail. “Well, what is it? I’m sure it can be worked in, if it’s something you feel so strongly about.”

“This is your day, Babs,” Valerie agrees.

“The problem is, it’s not something you all can help with,” Barbara sighs. “I don’t mind what dress I wear, as long as it’s white. And as for flowers, just get whatever’s in season. But the one thing I’ve always wanted…” she trails off, seeming rather small all of the sudden. “I’ve always thought that my father would officiate my wedding.”

“Oh,” Patsy says. “Well, have you asked him? Does he live within a reasonable traveling distance?”

Barbara heaves another sigh. “He’s been traveling, doing missionary work. I think I know where he is right now, but even if it’s somewhere he can leave early, who knows if he’ll be able to get here in time…”

“You won’t know unless you ask,” Trixie says, which is the most reasonable thing she’s said in the past hour. “Besides, surely he’ll want to know that you and Tom are engaged, at the very least.”

“That’s true,” Barbara says. She’s looking down again, twisting her engagement ring on her finger. “But I-- I’m not so sure I want to have that conversation on the Nonnatus phone.”

Hums of agreement pass around the room.

“Well, that’s an easy fix,” Trixie says. “We’ll sneak you over to Tom’s again!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: how will Reverend Gilbert react?


	5. Surprise...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara tells her father about the wedding... and the surrounding issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so in the show we have literally only two scenes that give any insight into Rev. Gilbert's character-- the wedding, where he seems like the Best Dad Ever, and the "excitement is what fathers want for other people's daughters" scene, where he seems like he should not be trusted with young children. I ended up going with characterization from that one mainly, where he's talked about as a little cold and distant, because it felt right for the events of this AU. Hope it seems plausible, I did my best!

There’s less ‘sneaking’ this time, but the next day, Barbara does end up at Tom’s after she finishes with her patients. He’s more than happy to lend her his telephone.

“I’d be delighted to meet your father,” he tells her with a smile. It falls a moment later as he considers the implications. “Of course, he might not feel the same about me, all things considered.”

Barbara kisses his cheek. “He’ll love you, Tom. You’re just the sort of man he’s wanted me to marry my whole life.”

To his credit, Tom gives her privacy to use the phone, remaining in his living room while she stays in the office space. But without his calming presence, her nerves rise again, her heart unsteady in her chest.

Her father answers on the fourth ring. _”Reverend Gilbert.”_

“Dad?” she says, almost tentatively. “It’s-- it’s me. It’s Barbara.”

_”Barbara!”_ he sounds delighted by her voice. _”What a lovely surprise, darling. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”_

“Well,” she says, taking a deep breath, “I have some news.”

_”Good news, I hope?”_

“Very.” Her lips curve into a small smile. “Dad, Tom and I are engaged.”

Her father’s laugh echoes down the phone line. _”Oh, Barbara, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.”_

“I was hoping you’d be able to make it to the wedding,” she says, her grip on the phone tightening. “You know I’ve always wanted you to officiate it.”

_”Of course,”_ he laughs. _”I wouldn’t miss it for the world. When will it be?”_

Barbara bites her lip; here comes the hard part. “It’s in six weeks or so.”

There’s a long beat of silence on the other end. _”Barbara-- why so soon? I don’t think I’ll be done with business here for another three months at least. I would hate to have to put an end to something like this too early.”_

“I…” Barbara takes a shaky breath. “The date is firm, I’m afraid.” She squeezes her eyes shut, awaiting the inevitable.

_”I’m sorry, darling, I’m just confused. Why the rush?”_

There it is.

“Dad…” for a moment, it feels as though she physically can’t tell him, as though the words are lodging in her throat. But she swallows hard and manages to speak. “I’m pregnant.”

He doesn’t speak right away, but she hears a shocked, unsteady gasp. _”Barbara,”_ he says. _”No. You know better.”_

She blinks back tears. “It was after we were already engaged…”

_”But before you were married!”_ the shock in her father’s voice is replaced with anger. _”I can’t believe you would do something like this. You should be ashamed of yourself.”_

“I am,” she answers, her tone approaching desperate. “We should have waited, I know. I know I’ve gone and mucked things up. But I just--” her voice cracks. “I just want you at the wedding, Dad.”

_”That’s not going to be possible Barbara,”_ he says, with the familiar tone she hadn’t known to call cold during her childhood. _”You’ve made your choice. And that forces me to make mine.”_

“Dad,” she says again, “please--”

_”I have to go.”_ She can hear his sharp intake of breath. _”Goodbye, Barbara.”_

“Goodbye,” she replies helplessly.

The call cuts off with a click.

\---

Tom looks up as the door to his office opens, and to his dismay, his fiancee steps out with tears tracking down her cheeks. He stands and hurries to wrap her in his arms. “Oh, love. What happened?”

“I had to tell him,” she explains, her words followed by a hiccupping sob. “He as good as asked. And he-- he didn’t take it well.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tom whispers, holding her close. A wave of guilt washes over him as Barbara shakes in his arms. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have been put in this position, and he hates that he’s played even the slightest role in causing her tears.

“It’s not your fault,” she argues.

He almost laughs. “Barbara, it very much is.”

“No more yours than mine.”

“Alright,” he agrees, “I’ll give you that.”

He hears and feels her take deep, shuddering breaths, trying to end her tears. “I’m so sorry, love,” he murmurs. “I know how much you wanted him here.”

“And now this is just _another_ problem we have to solve,” she grumbles. “Who will we get to preach?”

“I have friends I can ask,” he soothes, rubbing her back and slowly leading her to sit on the couch. “You can at least leave that part to me. It will make me feel slightly more useful.” He cracks a small smile, and in turn, her lips tilt up a bit as she looks at him.

“I’m sorry for not keeping you in the loop,” she says. “Honestly, some days it feels like I’m not in it, either. Trixie and Patsy are playing tug-of-war with what’s supposed to be the happiest day of my life.”

“I could speak with them,” he offers.

“I might take you up on that,” she murmurs. “I just… I feel bad for being picky when they’re just trying to help.”

“If it’s making you even more stressed, it’s not helping,” he reminds her, dropping a kiss to her cheek. “Get Phyllis to step in and put her foot down. That should set things straight.”

Barbara laughs at that, and Tom chuckles too, kissing her again. But then she rests her head on his shoulder, and he can see in her eyes how _exhausted_ she is, and he doesn’t know if it’s the pregnancy or the secret keeping taking this toll on her. He holds her close and doesn’t say anything. The least-- or perhaps the most-- he can give her is a moment to rest.

It’s only a moment, though. There comes a knock at the door, followed by Nurse Dyer sticking her head in. “I’ve come to fetch Barbara,” she says apologetically. “We’re to see to Mrs. Riggs.”

“I’m coming,” sighs Barbara, peeling herself off the couch. “I’ll need my bag and my bicycle, though.”

“Already got them,” Valerie tells her.

As they leave, Tom catches Barbara’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“I love you,” he tells her.

She smiles. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad Babs 🥺🥺


	6. Adjustments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara returns to wedding planning with a new stubborn streak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we return to our fun with the nurses, which is basically the whole point of this fic, anyway!

Barbara sits cross-legged on her bed, eyeing her friends carefully. Patsy has a regretful look on her face, and Trixie is nodding thoughtfully, puffing slowly on a cigarette.

On the floor between the beds, Delia is teaching Valerie a card game. Short attention spans, the both of them. But they’ve both been more willing to sit back and take direction when it comes to helping with the wedding, so Barbara doesn’t really need their attention, anyway.

“I know you’re both trying to help,” she finishes, “and I so appreciate it, I really do. It’s just… a bit stressful. You both have so many ideas, and it’s turning into this whole elaborate affair when all I want is a simple ceremony.”

“You’re right, Babs,” Patsy says. “We’re sorry. I thought I was being helpful by taking charge, but I shouldn’t have made myself the boss. It’s your day.”

Trixie blows a smoke ring, giving Barbara an apologetic smile. “Absolutely. You know me, I love a party… I should’ve been listening more to what you wanted instead of just assuming we were both on the same page.”

Barbara feels tears welling up in her eyes as she looks at her friends. “Oh, you two are so sweet. You know I couldn’t do this without you, don’t you?” and without waiting for an answer, she leans forward to give them both a tight hug.

Patsy chuckles. “Hormones, much?”

Barbara tries to speak through a mouthful of Trixie’s hair. “Shut up.”

“Just tell us what to do, sweetie,” Trixie says, patting her on the back. “We’re your reinforcements, not the other way around. We can make this just how you want it to be.”

Barbara leans back, wipes her eyes, and looks at the pages of planning that Patsy has neatly organized in a folder. “Right. Well, first let’s get rid of most of this…”

\---

“Yes, empire waist was absolutely the right call,” Violet says, removing pins and adjusting layers of soft white fabric. “I can’t see a difference when I’m looking for it.”

“That’s good,” Barbara murmurs, looking at herself in the mirror. She’s wondered in recent weeks if she’s simply being paranoid about her baby bump; she feels like it’s larger than it should be, for how far along she is. Indeed, the flowing fabric of this dress totally hides any curve to her stomach.

“You don’t seem too enthusiastic,” Violet says, looking concerned. “You look wonderful, I promise! Is it not what you wanted?”

“Oh, I love it,” she promises, and she does. “It’s just…” she takes a deep breath, letting herself smile. “It’s all starting to sink in. I’m really going to get married.”

“And in the nick of time,” Violet says with a wide smile. “C’mon, then. Your friends are waiting!”

\---

Trixie actually gasps when she sees Barbara in her dress. She claps her hands excitedly in a smattering of applause, delighted to see her friend looking so absolutely angelic. “Oh, it’s perfect!”

“You look amazing, Barbara,” Patsy agrees, smiling widely.

The dress is white, of course, and more than floor-length, pooling on the floor and creating a small train, which adds to the elegance without being over-the-top. There’s an almost shimmery quality to the fabric, as if it’s satin, or something similar. It flows and drapes in an almost celestial fashion, making Barbara look like a divine figure from an old painting.

It hides her bump well, too. But that’s hardly the most amazing thing about it.

Barbara laughs softly, looking down at herself, her hands smoothing over the fabric. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

Patsy nods. “That’s an understatement.”

“Tom will drop dead when he sees you,” Trixie teases.

At that, Barbara’s smile grows, and she turns from them to look at herself in the mirror. “Goodness, I can hardly believe we’re really getting married.”

“In less than a month, at that,” Patsy reminds her.

Barbara nods. “It’s just starting to feel real.”

“Get used to it, sweetie,” Trixie encourages. “You’re going to be the most wonderful bride Poplar has ever seen.”

\---

Barbara is absolutely horrible at keeping secrets. She knows this about herself. While the current situation has forced her to learn the skill quickly, she still has slip ups. Like the fact that Shelagh and Violet both know.

(Trixie had threatened to not let her out of the house unsupervised after she’d had to rescue her from attempting to talk herself out of the offer of liquor to toast a new baby. Yes, it’s as easy as saying she’s on the clock, but still. Barbara had panicked.)

It’s a miracle the nuns haven’t found out yet. There’s a particularly close call at lunch one busy afternoon.

In all fairness, she can hardly be expected to _not_ react to feeling the first fetal movements. And the midday meal is so busy that it’s unlikely anyone would’ve noticed her jump… had she not been in the middle of passing the gravy.

She lifts the bowl to pass it to Patsy, and almost in the same moment, feels a slight but unmistakable fluttering. By some miracle she manages not to cry out, but she does gasp silently and jolt as if an electric current has been sent through her body.

...which sends the gravy straight into Trixie’s lap.

Trixie shrieks. The mood of the table shifts from restrained hurry to raucous uproar. Barbara is fumbling and apologizing and doing her best to avoid Sister Monica Joan’s knowing stare. “Sorry, sorry--”

“That’s going to stain,” Trixie moans.

“Trix, you wash bodily fluids out of that uniform on the regular, I don’t think a little gravy will hurt it,” Patsy counters.

Barbara closes her eyes as the scent of gravy and mental image brought to mind by Patsy’s words become too much. She swallows hard and wills her gag reflex not to kick in.

“Nurse Mount, perhaps that’s not the most apt analogy for the dinner table,” Sister Julienne says. “Nurse Franklin, if you wipe the gravy off, your uniform should survive the rest of the day; I’m afraid you won’t get much chance to wash it before this evening.” She pauses. “Nurse Gilbert, are you alright?”

Barbara looks up from where she’s had her head in her hands. “Oh, yes. Absolutely fine. I just, um, I knocked my arm against the arm of my chair. So sorry.”

Sister Julienne nods and smiles, though her gaze lingers for a long moment. Barbara smiles back. Trixie leaves to try to save her uniform, and the meal settles down.

Still, Barbara can’t help the hand that drifts to her stomach, where her uniform is stretched fairly tight. She can’t feel anything from the outside, but there are persistent flutters she senses deeper in.

A small smile curves the corners of her lips. Some days, the miracle of life really does feel like a miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: another plot twist...


	7. One Thing After Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara gets another 'home visit' with a shocking reveal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I apologize for medical inaccuracy. I decided to prioritize plot over science, so I needed this to happen now, instead of when it might make more sense medically. Poetic license, and all that!

Barbara is nearly dead on her feet after a delivery that had called her out before she’d finished breakfast (and she’s just starting to feel hungry again, too!) and hadn’t returned her until after dinner. She slurps down a bowl of soup left out for her, then climbs the stairs to her bedroom, struggling to keep her eyes open.

Unfortunately, her bedroom appears to be hosting a party.

Trixie is laughing too loudly for the hour, at a joke Valerie is still struggling to finish. Phyllis appears to be fully attentive to her Spanish book, but her lips have turned up in a smile. Patsy is questioning the factual elements of Valerie’s story, her fingers busy braiding Delia’s hair into some elaborate twist.

“Hello,” Barbara calls out, raising her voice more than she’d like to be heard over the cacophony. “I didn’t realize all the excitement was in here tonight.” She gives Phyllis a questioning look.

“We were waiting for you,” Phyllis explains. “I’ve learned from Nurse Mount that it’s high past time we gave you another clandestine antenatal check.”

Barbara groans. “Can it wait? I’m exhausted…”

Phyllis peers over her spectacles. “It’s my understanding you should have had one weeks ago.”

Sighing, Barbara nods. “I’m sixteen weeks this week, or something. I suppose you’re right.”

“Shame on us for letting you go this long,” Patsy tsks. 

Barbara turns to Trixie and Valerie. “I suppose you two should get off my bed, then.”

Trixie obediently climbs off. Valerie, still laughing at her own joke, more or less falls onto the floor.

Phyllis grabs her medical kit off the dresser. “Skirt up, knickers off,” she instructs. “We’ll start with the external exam.”

“How are your hands not cold?” Barbara asks, surprised to find Phyllis’ touch gentle and warm. “Everyone always tells me I have cold hands.”

“Perhaps you have low circulation,” Phyllis muses. “Your blood pressure might give us a clue to that.” She continues to palpate. “I know you’ve still been picking at your food, are you getting your appetite back?”

“Yes,” Barbara says, “but now it’s a matter of if I can sit down long enough to eat.”

Phyllis hums in disapproval. “I’ll see to that.”

“Don’t do anything that could make the nuns suspicious,” Barbara protests. “I’m fine, really!”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Phyllis reminds her. Trixie, Valerie, Patsy, and Delia descend into giggles.

The rest of the exam proceeds normally until Phyllis begins to listen to the heartbeat. She squints, frowns, and removes the stethoscope, palpating again.

Barbara frowns, too. “Is something wrong?”

Phyllis holds up a finger and bends to listen again, a small smile pasted across her lips.

“Phyllis, your patient-calming smile doesn’t work on me!”

“Barbara, please,” Phyllis says. “I just need you to be quiet for a few moments. And take deep breaths, your heartbeat is racing.”

Barbara bites back a retort and tries her best to stay still. A moment later, Phyllis straightens. “Nurse Mount, could you come over here and take a listen?”

Patsy crosses the few feet between the beds, and it’s an odd picture, to see her in her worn pajamas with her face schooled into a neutral, focused expression Barbara has only seen during clinic and deliveries. She takes the stethoscope from Phyllis, then leans down, hissing in irritation when her hair falls in her face. Delia hands her a hair elastic.

“Hm,” she says after a minute, which, from Patsy, is the equivalent of “oh, wow”. Or “oh, no,” but Barbara is trying to stay positive.

“What, ‘hm’?” she asks.

“Barbara, please,” Phyllis says, giving her a look. “Everything is alright, I assure you. Nurse Mount, place your hand here.”

Patsy does, then moves her hand around the area, pressing gently. “Okay…”

“Now here,” Phyllis instructs. Patsy moves her hand obligingly, and her brows knit.

“May I listen again?” She takes the stethoscope without bothering to wait for an answer. Her mouth drops open a bit, which, again, is quite the reaction from Patsy. “No. It should be too early to know--”

“I thought so, too,” Phyllis agrees. “But if we’re both noticing…”

“Noticing what?” Barbara asks.

“One moment, dear,” Patsy says, absently squeezing her hand. Barbara huffs, resigning herself to waiting until they decide to enlighten her.

“Could an internal exam clear things up?” Patsy asks.

“Not likely, in this case, but we should do one anyway,” Phyllis tells her.

That part of the exam is considerably less comfortable, but Barbara lives through it. As Phyllis strips off her gloves, Patsy picks up the stethoscope again. “I want to listen one more time.”

“It’s not going to magically clarify things,” Phyllis murmurs.

“I know,” Patsy says, “I just want to double check.”

As soon as her friend is satisfied, Barbara pushes herself back into a sitting position, tugging her skirt back into place and folding her arms. “Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on!?”

Phyllis and Patsy exchange glances, then give her matching smiles. It’s Phyllis who speaks.

“I do believe you’re having twins, Barbara.”

For a moment, Barbara can only gape at her. The rest of the room is quick to fill the silence.

“What!?”

“I didn’t know you could diagnose twins at sixteen weeks…”

“Let me listen!”

Barbara holds up a hand at the last voice, gently pushing Trixie away. “I trust Phyllis and Patsy, and I’ve had quite enough poking and prodding for tonight!” She looks up at Phyllis with wide eyes. “Twins?”

“As far as we can tell.”

She curls in on herself, rubbing her stomach. “Twins.”

Patsy grabs the water glass off her bedside table. “Drink this.” She rests the back of her hand on Barbara’s forehead.

Barbara scowls up at her. “Your hands _are_ cold.”

Patsy makes careful eye contact, rubbing a hand up and down her shoulder. “Seriously, Barbara, drink the water. This sort of news can be a shock to your system.”

Obligingly, she sips the cool liquid from the glass. After a few swallows, she feels more fluttering in her stomach, more persistent than the last few times. She can almost make out movements, feel where tiny limbs are pressing against her.

“There are two of them in there,” she whispers.

Trixie cocks her head inquisitively. “Have you felt movement yet?”

“Just in the last week or so.” Barbara makes a face. “Remember the gravy incident?”

Noises of understanding make their way around the room. Trixie puts her hands on her hips. “Be lucky that was my uniform and not a nice dress,” she says, “or I would never have forgiven you.”

Barbara laughs, the normality and camaraderie calming her nerves. “Well, at least I had a good excuse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: you didn't think they would all be able to keep this a _secret,_ did you?


	8. Only A Week Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad timing and bad luck cause a slip-up. It was bound to happen...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to go up yesterday, but it slipped my mind, sorry! I live in the US so I was giving my full attention to the inauguration (didn't even get my schoolwork done 😬) enjoy, and sorry for the late update!

The way Barbara and Tom’s schedules so often conflict is frustrating at the best of times.

This is not the best of times.

Thanks to her work and his, by the time they’re a week from the big day, she still hasn’t had a chance to tell him they’re having twins. Sunday School is really not the best place for this revelation, but it’s early when they set up and noone’s there and she can’t keep this in any longer.

“Tom,” she says, when he’s unstacking chairs and she’s sorting out coloring materials, “you’re not going to believe this.”

He pauses and looks up. “What? Is everything alright?”

“Yes,” she says quickly, “but we’re having twins! _Twins!”_

His jaw drops, and he stares at her in shock. “Wh-what? Twins? As in… two babies?”

Barbara nods, sure she looks as wide-eyed as he does.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Patsy and Phyllis both agree, and I trust them.”

Tom nods slowly. “Wow. Two… two babies. I… wow.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you need to sit down?”

He shakes his head and smiles at her. “I’m alright.” The smile grows, and he takes both of her hands in his. “I still can’t believe we’re going to be parents.”

“Neither can I,” she admits. A moment later, she gets an idea, and moves closer to him. “Here. Put your hand here.”

It feels odd to have someone else touching her bump, when she takes such care to hide it, to the best of her ability. The dress she wears today has enough of a skirt that it’s not visible, but she’s easily able to rest her hand and Tom’s on the curve of her stomach. She rubs her hand back and forth a bit. “Can you feel…”

Before she even finishes her sentence, Tom gasps, and she feels it, too. It’s just one of their babies turning gently, shifting position inside her, but they can both feel the motion. Tom’s face lights up with a smile that only grows as they’re met with a few more tiny but noticeable kicks.

“They’re moving,” Tom whispers, his voice hushed with awe.

Barbara beams and nods, tilting her face up to him and wordlessly inviting a kiss.

He accepts the invitation, and kisses her far too enthusiastically for the church setting. When they stop to breathe, she tucks her face into his neck, and he laughs breathlessly. “We’re having a baby… two babies. Lord god.”

Barbara looks up at him, ready to respond, only to be stopped by an unwelcome interruption… two of her sunday school students have arrived early.

_”You’re_ having a baby!?” The older one exclaims.

Barbara opens and closes her mouth, searching for an excuse. Tom, at least, has enough sense to step away from her, ending the intimate embrace.

“I thought you couldn’t have babies until you got married,” argues the younger sibling.

“You’re not _supposed_ to, but some people do.” 

The problem is, these aren’t little kids who can be redirected until they forget the issue. They’re nine and eleven, if Barbara recalls, and worse, she knows their parents. If she doesn’t manage to think on her feet, news is going to get out, and fast.

“I thought priests were supposed to follow all the rules,” one of the children is saying to Tom, looking rather confused. The other has a look of sheer delight that ironically reminds Barbara of Trixie-- always excited by any new tidbit of intriguing gossip.

Tom scrubs a hand over his face. “Well, yes,” he answers slowly. “But, ah… well, everyone makes mistakes, from time to time. And I think the most important thing to remember is that Jesus forgives everyone, even the sinners. You’re _supposed_ to follow all the rules and do the right thing, but if you can’t, He loves you anyway.”

It’s a good sunday school lesson, at least…

But every week, her students run off to ramble to their parents about everything they’ve learned.

As more students trickle in, she resigns herself to a truth her years of midwifery and nursing has taught her: children spread gossip and rumors like they spread germs.

\---

Trixie doesn’t feel a strong urge to go to church today. She’d slept in after a night-long delivery, and now lounges in the living room, painting her nails. Valerie and Delia are watching the television, and Patsy is on call. Barbara, Phyllis, and the nuns are still at church, of course.

The heavy front door creaks open, and Barbara enters, her expression an odd combination of dismay and defeat. She moves slowly into the living room and stands in front of them, heaving a sigh.

Delia looks at her curiously. “How was church?”

“Forget church,” Barbara groans, “Sunday school sealed my fate.” She flops onto the sofa, her legs kicked over the armrest and her head nearly on Trixie’s thigh. “I’m doomed.”

Trixie reaches out to push Barbara’s hair from her face, so she can see her eyes. “What happened?”

Her friend sighs in what would be a dramatic manner from anyone else. “You know what? My reputation is clearly already ruined. I’m going to say it.”

Trixie raises an eyebrow.

_”Fuck.”_

“I’m so proud,” Valerie teases.

“Seriously, though,” Patsy says, leaning against the doorway, “what happened?”

Delia leans over from the other couch. “Did someone... find out?”

“If by ‘someone’ you mean ‘my entire sunday school group and thus their parents and everyone their parents know’, then yes.”

Trixie winces. Valerie curses under her breath, and Delia mutters something in welsh that probably isn’t complimentary. Patsy drops her head into her hands, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Lord, Barbara, you’re only a week out…”

“It’s not like I told them on purpose!” she protests. “I hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell Tom I was having twins yet, and we were having a perfectly private conversation, and then the McIntire siblings arrived early…”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Trixie says. “It is what it is, now.”

“Should I just… tell the nuns?” Barbara wonders. “Maybe that would be better than letting the rumor mill take its course…”

“Absolutely not.” Trixie looks up from her nail lacquer to meet Barbara’s eyes carefully. “You plead ignorance, do you understand? If anyone asks, you haven’t heard the rumors and of course they can’t be true. Seven days, Barbara. Just seven more days.”

Barbara stares up at her with wide eyes. Patsy watches them both with a somber expression. Delia is nodding slowly.

“That’s mental, Trix,” Valerie says. “It just might work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, lying, comforting hugs, and a fight.


	9. "Keeping Secrets"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara resorts to flat-out ignoring the comments. Tom... does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late, I forgot it was Wednesday!

Trixie’s idea is easier said than done.

It’s only been two of the seven days Barbara needs to lay low for, and it’s already wreaking havoc on her nerves. Tuesday afternoon means clinic, and she can practically feel all of the eyes on her. She clears her throat, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. “Mrs. Mahoney?”

Her patient stands, huffing and puffing as the heavily pregnant generally do, and makes her way over to the curtained-off exam area.

“I’m surprised you’re still workin’ this week,” she grumbles as she climbs onto the table.

Barbara stiffens, keeping her eyes on her paperwork. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She keeps her voice even and measured, taking deep breaths. Five days. She can do this.

“Oh, sugar, you know what they’re sayin’. Soon enough you’ll need to be on my side of this equation, ain’t that right?”

“I’m sorry,” Barbara says, “but you must have overheard something incorrectly. People tend to blow even the smallest rumors out of proportion.”

Mrs. Mahoney laughs. “That apron don’t hide as much as you think, you know.”

Unable to think of a nonchalant response to that, Barbara simply crouches down to begin her examination, her lips sealed. Thankfully, her patient lets the issue drop, and the exam goes well. Afterward Barbara all but flees to the clinic’s kitchen.

Phyllis, boiling urine samples, looks up at her flustered entrance. “Are you alright, Nurse Gilbert?”

“Peachy.”

Her friend gives her a sympathetic look. “Perhaps you’d rather make sure everything is in order back here, and I’ll go and see to our patients.”

Barbara heaves a long sigh of relief. “Would you mind? I just--” her voice cracks, and she realizes there’s a lump in her throat. “I need a break,” she whispers hoarsely.

Phyllis, normally so professional in a clinic setting, steps away from the counter to give her a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. “Noone can begrudge you that, kid. You hang in there. This will all be over soon.”

Barbara nods, wiping her eyes as she moves to begin organizing samples. “Five more days,” she mumbles.

It feels like an eternity.

\---

Tom walks down the street back to his house, in a rather dismal mood after a long night with a parishioner who had asked for his help but not been at all receptive to it. In past months, he might have strolled along slowly, greeting friendly faces in the street and letting easy conversation boost his mood.

Now, though… he doubts talking to any passerby would make him feel better. So he keeps his head half ducked and his hands in his pockets, trying to block out the chatter in the street around him.

It doesn’t really work.

“I thought the Nonnatuns were supposed to be a step above,” chortles one man, chugging from a bottle.

“Not all of ‘em, I guess,” retorts another man, standing closer to Tom. “Damn, wish I’d known they were an option. Those uniforms are easy on the eyes, and Nonnatus is a hell of a lot closer than cable street.”

Tom stops dead in his tracks.

He should keep moving. Be the better man. But the bastard _just keeps talking._ His probably-drunken ramblings travel down the path of insinuating Barbara has been sleeping around, that she’s unfaithful and a million other things that make Tom see red.

When he finally snaps, he’s mere feet from the louder man, and moves before he even has time to think about it. He pushes up his sleeves and grabs the man’s arm in a grip strengthened by anger, pressing him up against the brick facade of whichever building they’re loitering in front of.

“Sorry,” he growls, pinning the shocked idiot easily, “were you talking about my fiancee?”

“Don’t sound like she’s worth fighting for, mate,” the man wheezes.

Tom draws back his fist, sending it into his opponent’s nose without a second thought. As blood gushes from the fresh break, he adjusts his grip on the man, his hands fisting in his rumpled shirt and hoisting him farther up the wall. “Then maybe,” he growls, “you should keep your mouth shut.”

His opponent squirms until he drops him, and as the blinding rage cools to thrumming adrenaline, Tom realizes he’s actually gotten himself into his first fight since university. His opponent staggers into a fighting stance and Tom raises his fists into a defensive position, beginning to question his judgement--

“Thomas Hereward!”

A familiar face from across the street makes him turn, but he’s still easily able to shove the sorry excuse for a man to the ground when he lunges at him. His brows furrow as he catches sight of a familiar blonde head under a red cap. “Trixie?”

“What on earth do you think you’re doing!?” she’s abandoned her bicycle as she rushes toward him, firmly putting herself between him and the drunk. “Getting into a _fistfight,_ honestly, Tom-- you’re getting married in two days!” She loops her arm through his and practically drags him away.

“I wasn’t--”

“Wasn’t what? Fighting? Your fist is covered in his blood!”

Tom frowns down at his right hand, which is in fact sticky with slowly drying blood. “He was talking about Barbara,” he mutters.

“I surmised as much.” They reach their street, but she drags him on past his doorway.

“Trixie, where are we going?”

“Nonnatus. You need a hot tea, and I want to make sure you haven’t got a boxer’s fracture.”

He hesitates on the wide stone steps. “Can’t you do that in my kitchen? I’m trying not to set foot in the same room as the nuns until Sunday.”

“The nuns will be at compline, and they don’t come down after that,” Trixie tells him. She turns to look him in the eye, a small smirk crossing her face. “Besides, Barbara will want to see you.”

Tom sighs. He knows when he’s been beat.

They enter the foyer, and despite Trixie’s assurances of secrecy, she doesn’t bother to lower her voice much.

“You'll never believe who I found,” she calls, moving toward the kitchen as Barbara emerges from it. “He was practically brawling in the street!”

“Brawling!? Tom!” Barbara hurries toward him, worry in her eyes and her hands a-flutter, moving over his face and arms checking for injuries.

“I wasn’t brawling,” he protests.

She gasps when she reaches his hands. “You’re covered in blood!”

“It’s not my blood.”

“That hardly makes me feel better!”

Tom sighs, suddenly feeling very tired. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I just-- there were two men, talking about you, and I passed just close enough to them at the wrong time--”

_”Everyone’s_ talking about me, Tom,” Barbara says with an exasperated huff. She leads him to the sink and begins to wash the blood from his hands, examining his bruised knuckles at the same time. “But you’re a priest! You can’t just go around punching people.”

“I don’t feel like a very good priest,” he grumbles.

Barbara looks up at him with sympathy in her eyes, but whatever she might say is interrupted by Trixie, bustling about with the kettle. “That’s enough of the self-pity. I’m putting some tea on; you could both use it. Barbara, have you seen Patsy? Is she on call tonight?”

“No, Phyllis is, because Valerie just got called out,” says a new voice, as the nurse in question enters the room. “Why are you making tea at eleven at night, Trixie?” Her gaze settles on Tom. “You can’t be here. Good grief, are you bleeding?”

Nurse Busby is close behind. “Who’s bleeding? I want tea!”

“Noone is bleeding, Tom is here to prevent him getting in another fight, and there’s enough tea for everyone,” Trixie answers.

“You’ve been in a fight?” Nurse Busby looks almost impressed.

“Never mind that, why is he _here?”_ Nurse Mount keeps eyeing Tom like he’s some sort of ticking explosive. “He shouldn’t be here, that’s playing with fire.” She turns to make eye contact with Tom. “Why are you here?”

He blinks. “I don’t know. Trixie insisted.”

“Patsy,” Trixie asks, “do you know where the meprobamate is?”

“In the medicine cabinet in the prep room, I believe.”

“Good. Go take two.”

The redhead sighs. “I don’t need a sedative, Trixie.”

“Then maybe a mug of tea will do the trick.” Trixie lifts the kettle from the stove, and Barbara grabs several mugs for her to pour into. The five of them crowd around the small kitchen table, and Tom has to admit, the warmth of the mug in his hand and of Barbara’s shoulder brushing his is nice.

Just a quiet evening, even with the tension in the air, is more relaxing than he’s had in a while.

Barbara reaches for his hand, her thumb moving back and forth over the back of it. Tom leans toward her a bit, resting his head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

As always happens with this group, there’s a low conversation starting up, Trixie relaying her understanding of the fight as Patsy and Delia listen and interject. But Tom’s attention is only on Barbara, and with whispers, they’re almost able to have a private conversation.

“I’m sorry for fighting, and for worrying you. I know this is much harder for you than it is for me.”

Barbara presses her lips to his cheek. “It’s okay, Tom. It’s hard for both of us. But we’ll get through it.” She squeezes his hand. “We have each other. And this weekend, I’ll finally be your wife.”

“And I’ll be your husband.” Tom breathes easier as the last vestiges of anger are wiped away by love for his fiancee. He kisses her lips softly. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she whispers against his mouth. She kisses him again, but they’re interrupted by someone across the table clearing their throat.

Tom feels himself turn red as he remembers they’re not alone in the kitchen.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

Trixie only laughs, her expression mock-stern. “If you’re going to do all that, I’ll let Patsy kick you out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that's not too OOC for Tom-- Trixie was originally supposed to step in before he actually got in a fight, but as I was writing it all just Happened. And the mental image of Tom just a bit roughed up is not unattractive (to me, at least!)


	10. Wedding Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of the secret-keeping and stress pays off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe we've almost made it to the end of this fic! Don't worry, after all the feels in the past few chapters, this one is plenty happy, I promise ❤

Even though she has seen herself in her dress before, Barbara can hardly believe it when she looks in the mirror on her wedding day. Trixie has done her makeup. Patsy has adjusted her veil multiple times, and even now is fiddling with the train of her dress. She _is_ ready, whether she feels that way or not.

She looks over her shoulder at Phyllis, who is beaming proudly. “This is… really happening.”

Phyllis nods, squeezing her hand. “And I could not be happier for you.”

“I’m happy, too,” Barbara says, choking up a bit. “I am _so_ happy. I can’t hardly believe this is real. I can’t believe any of this is real.”

Trixie appears in front of her with a handkerchief. “Of course it is, sweetie, and you deserve every bit of it. Now, don’t you start crying, you’re wearing more eye makeup than you’ve ever worn in your life.”

Laughing successfully prevents the tears, and Barbara opens her arms to give all three of her bridesmaids a hug. She holds on tight, but when they hear music in the church hall, she knows it’s time.

Patsy heaves a sigh that’s rather contradicted by the wide smile on her face. “Oh, now you’ve wrinkled your dress all over again.”

\---

Tom feels frozen to his spot in front of the altar. He’s glad all he has to do is stand here; he’s not sure he could move if he were the one who had to walk down the aisle. He tries in vain to take a deep breath.

Fred is next to him, looking concerned. “You alright, mate?”

“Absolutely terrified,” Tom manages. “But yeah. Great.”

Fred pats him on the back. “Don’t worry. As soon as you see her, all of that will go away.”

And it does.

He sees her there, looking heavenly and angelic in her long white dress. Phyllis is holding her arm and Trixie and Patsy flank them, but he can only stare at his bride. She’s smiling at him, pure joy radiating from her so clearly that he swears he can almost see a halo. He feels a smile spread over his own face.

As much as he’d worried about forgetting his vows, the words come easily when they’re standing together. Tom slips a golden band onto Barbara’s finger, saying ‘I do’ like it’s the most important phrase he’ll ever speak. He kisses her hand before letting go, and she smiles at him with so much love in her gaze that his heart twists in his chest.

For a moment, his gaze drifts to her stomach. He’s impressed; there’s no sign of her baby bump under the white fabric. But he knows what’s there, know’s he’ll soon be a father to not one but two children. He can’t imagine loving anyone as much as he loves Barbara, but at the same time, he knows he’s going to.

And when he’s told he can kiss the bride, when they share their first kiss as husband and wife…

He’s never felt so in love before. But he knows he’ll feel like this every day, from now on.

He’s married to Barbara, and the future is bright.

\---

It’s late, far later than Barbara usually stays up, even later than she would have before pregnancy had sapped her energy. 

For most of the evening, joy and excitement had filled her with energy, but now, as the millionth record winds down and the excited chatter all around them quiets to murmured conversation, she slowly realizes that she’s tired.

Tom has his arm around her shoulders, and he presses a kiss to her hair when she leans even more into him. “It’s getting late, love.”

Barbara stifles a yawn. “It is.”

“Shall we go home?”

She smiles. It feels odd for home to not be in the room above her, but earlier that day, she and Phyllis had packed all of her things and taken her suitcases to Tom’s place-- _their_ place. Barbara shifts to kiss her husband gently on the lips. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

They say their goodbyes and leave Nonnatus house, crossing the street to the cozy flat by the church. It’s comforting to still be so close-- she’s not leaving her whole life behind, just beginning a new chapter.

When they reach the threshold, Tom stops her and lifts her in his arms, extraordinarily long dress and all. Barbara laughs and kisses him on the lips as they step into their home.

He kisses her back. “I love you, Mrs. Hereward.”

“I love you, Mr. Hereward,” she whispers.

When she reaches their bedroom, a shiver runs down her spine. Fluttering kicks remind her this isn’t the sacred night it should be, but it still feels new and exciting to be in here.

Everything feels new and exciting, now that they’re married.

Tom undresses her with plenty of tender kisses, making her breath shallow and her eyelids heavy. She kisses him back, and eventually rests her head in the crook of his shoulder. “Tom…” her voice shakes. “We didn’t-- we didn’t do it _wrong,_ by not waiting, did we? I mean, I know we shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t make tonight any less special, does it?”

“Not at all,” he promises. He takes her hand in his and presses a kiss to her ring finger, now adorned in gold. _”This_ is what makes tonight special, Barbara.” His hand moves to her exposed belly. “And this. This is so very special too.”

Barbara smiles and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. Tom moves them both closer to the bed until she’s lying on it.

And that night is absolutely still special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter... the (other) moment we've all been waiting for...


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few months have passed since the wedding, so... you know what it's time for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to the final chapter of this fic! I appreciate any and all readers who have made it this far, and I hope the ending is satisfying! This fic was a labor of love for quite a while and I'm so happy to have it all out here, finally. Enjoy!

The twins are born in August.

It’s nearly five months since the wedding, and three weeks yet until her due date, but Barbara knows, after a long night of tossing and turning, with contractions too close to ignore, that it’s time.

Normally, she would go for a walk in these early morning hours, enjoying the fresh air before the heat of the day. This morning she simply sips cold water and a small breakfast, watching the clock and waiting for Tom to rise.

“Good morning, love,” he says, his voice rough with sleep as he enters the kitchen. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Did you sleep well?”

“No.” She smiles up at him. “I think it’s time to call Nonnatus.”

All traces of sleepiness instantly disappear as her husband jolts awake, rushing for the phone. He fusses over her, staying by her side for the few minutes they’re alone, and when Phyllis arrives, Barbara reaches for his hand, wordlessly asking him to stay.

Phyllis looks resigned. “Oh, alright. But Mr. Hereward, your job is _only_ to comfort and support your wife. Mind you stay out of my way!”

Perhaps predictably, Barbara doesn’t remember much of her labor. She knows Trixie arrives at some point-- two heads are better than one, after all, especially with multiples involved. She knows it all hurts, so much more than she would have expected. The only memories that stick around are sensations. Phyllis’ steady voice coaching her through. The taste of the well-sugared tea Trixie supplies, when she can stop gritting her teeth long enough to sip it. Tom’s heartbeat thrumming underneath where her head rests on his chest, and his hands in hers as she squeezes them so tight.

Later, she’s told that her first baby had decided to offer their arm to the world first, resulting in some careful maneuvering by Trixie’s gentle hands. Her second had also been a bit of a gymnast, and had been delivered breech by a calm and determined Phyllis.

She’s sure they mentioned these things to her in the moment, too, but she can’t for the life of her recall it. All she remembers is waves of pain and obediently pushing when told. And at the end of it…

At the end of it, she’d been given her two daughters, so small and healthy and perfect. She’d cradled the younger one while Tom held the first, both of them spellbound by downy curls and tiny faces and blinking blue eyes.

“Look at them,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “They’re ours.”

“I can’t believe it,” Tom murmurs. She looks up at him to find him absolutely entranced, a joyous smile on her face.

Trixie returns with more tea as Phyllis disposes of the afterbirth. “Have you got any ideas for names?”

“I liked the name Sadie,” Tom says, looking down at Barbara as if to make sure it’s okay, even though they’d both decided together. “Didn’t occur to me we’d get two of the same, though.”

Barbara laughs softly and shakes her head. “Sadie Beatrix for her, then. And Elizabeth Phyllis for this one.”

Trixie beams. “Really!”

“Of course.” Barbara smiles widely at her friend.

“Phyllis, we’ve got namesakes!”

“What?”

“Sadie Beatrix and Eliza Phyllis,” Tom says. He’d taken to the nickname almost as soon as Barbara had suggested the full one, and she finds it endearing.

Phyllis looks positively overjoyed. She squeezes Barbara’s hand, then gently brushes her own over Eliza’s forehead. The newborn is already close to sleep, none the worse for wear from her topsy-turvy entrance into the world. Phyllis looks back up at Barbara. “I’m proud of you, lass.”

Barbara nods. “That was… hard.” She smiles as Eliza’s hand wraps around her finger. “But so worth it.”

“You get some rest, now,” Phyllis says, pride still clear in her gaze. “Nurse Franklin and I will get everyone all cleaned up.”

Reluctantly, Barbara hands over the baby, and Tom does the same. Trixie and Phyllis take them to pre-prepared baths, and Barbara sinks further into her fresh pillows, utterly exhausted.

Tom shifts out from behind her to sit on the edge of the bed, still holding her hand. “I love you,” he murmurs. “I love you so much. You did so well.”

“We have two little girls, Tom,” she says with a smile and a yawn. “I can’t believe they’re here.” She runs her thumb over his wedding ring. “All of that struggle was so worth it.”

“It absolutely was,” Tom agrees. “You should get some rest now, Barbara. Sleep well. We’ll still be here when you wake.”

She nods, her eyelids heavy. “Yeah… ‘m tired.”

But it’s not until she sees her girls laid in their bassinets that she finally drifts off to sleep.

\---

They snap a picture that Boxing Day, all of them. They crowd into the Nonnatus living room, all crushed together to be sure they’ll all be in the shot. Sister Winifered and Angela Turner hold up the tinsel-framed sign together. Trixie and Shelagh have managed near-matching dresses, despite-- or perhaps because of-- not discussing it at all beforehand. Barbara holds four-month-old Sadie on her lap, and Tom holds Elizabeth, and they all smile for the camera, dissolving into laughter and conversation once the shot has been taken.

It reminds Barbara of the previous year, clustered in the living room in a similar fashion as Sister Julienne informed them of their upcoming visit to South Africa. She couldn’t have guessed then what would happen, what she would see, do, learn, or where any of it would lead. Last year at this time, she would never have expected any of this.

Well, that just goes to show.

The twins get passed around, Valerie making faces at Sadie as Fred chuckles and bounces Eliza on his knee. Barbara and Tom both squeeze onto the couch, joining Trixie and Reggie and Sister Monica Joan. Tom wraps an arm over Barbara’s shoulders and presses a kiss to her cheek. “What are you thinking about?”

“Last Christmas,” she answers. “So much has happened since then.”

He nods. “It’s been quite a year.”

“A good one.”

“A good one,” he agrees.

“A bit of a crazy one, though,” she says thoughtfully.

“That’s also true.” His hand comes to cover hers, their wedding rings lining up.

Barbara twists her head to smile at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He kisses her, and then they settle back into the couch, listening to Reggie and Sister Monica Joan discussing a television show. Laughter fills the room, and even with the chill outside, it feels warm.

Because they’re all here, together. They’re all family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read and/or commented on this fic! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have. I'll see you soon, I hope! Happy almost Valentine's Day!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos make my day, or find me on tumblr at tinseltrixie!


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